“Damn it, I’d have answered him, but he went away without waiting for an answer, and as soon as they had given me my sealed orders I came right back. Here I know what I am doing and no one dares to give me lessons! Let them grant me wireless! I have asked the owner for it ten times if I’ve asked once, and every time he looks at me as though I were asking for the moon! Oh, yes--I forgot. On the gangway there was a little lieutenant. I asked him what I was to do if I saw a submarine--should I go after it with my fists? He too looked at me as though I were a freak and shrugged his shoulders and went back to laugh with the rest of them. Gorblime!” It did Fourgues good to relieve his mind. He lit his pipe and swallowed a glass of rum--best Jamaica. “Go to bed, Sonnie, and try to get some sleep till eight bells, for to-morrow you won’t get any to worry about! We are going to Antivari, to arrive at night and leave again the next morning and all the stuff has to be put ashore. Fortunately the nights are long. They’ll see what old man Fourgues is made of.” It’s not really amusing running up the coast of Albania. There is about as much vegetation as on the back of my hand, and when the wind butts in from the mountains, it’s no laughing matter. There’s a wind there called the bora. Well, we got a smack from it that was enough to pull the masts out! I don’t know how the destroyer managed not to capsize. Every time we could see her between the waves she was heeling right over, on one beam or the other. As for the _Pamir_, she has had so much of that sort of thing that it doesn’t even take off any paint--she hasn’t any left! By hugging the coast we arrived at Antivari the next day, the destroyer ahead showing the way. The wind fell, but still it wasn’t exactly fun, and there was not a light showing. Fourgues went in as though it were broad day, but really we could see neither the coast nor the wharf. You would have believed he was going into the Eure docks at Havre with one tug in front and another behind. However, there was somebody on the wharf, Montenegrins who caught our ropes and belayed ’em pretty well. The _Pamir_ was able to warp in and didn’t smash anything alongside. The natives leaped on board like devils. I suppose the weird jabbering meant that they wanted food, for as we got out the first bags of corn they fell on them and filled their pockets.